Fragments
by Lonely Scarecrow
Summary: "Because sometimes things are better off that way." - Series of drabbles/one shots. Multiple pairings, mostly gender bender, the main being Female!Byakuya/Male!Renji. Details inside. R&R!
1. Safety

**Title: Safety.**

**Characters/Pairings: FByakuya/MRenji**

**Warning: Mentioning of possible character deaths.**

**AN: BEWARE! KINDA LONG AN AHEAD! **

**Sorry guys, I need to point out a few things before you could start reading :P it wont take long, I promise! **

**So I just got through Heuco Mundo arc and decided that I am, in fact, addicted to Bleach. Or at least I'm getting there as we speak :P And where does addiction usually lead to? Why, fanfiction, of course! **

**I'm new at this. Meaning, I really don't know if I got it right O.o please, feel free to tell me EXACTLY how you feel about this, even if you're going to be as cruel as you can possibly be. I need honest opinions, otherwise I'll never know how I could improve, or where I should start. You might've noticed by now that English isn't my native language, so I could use a few writing tips along the way :) **

**Oh, and after reading a few Bleach fanfics, I noticed that a lot of you guys are... shall we say, sensitive about gender bending? Perhaps just a bit cautious? Yea well, I just thought I'd let you know that there will be A LOT of gender bending here, and I'm not just talking about Byakuya and Renji, I'm actually including all the Bleach characters I could think of in the future. **

**These one-shots, or drabbles, will be centered around many different pairings but it's mostly focused on female!Byakuya/male!Renji because...well, because I'm a sucker for impossible, tragic pairings like that :P there will also be family-themed pieces, a bit of implied slash (trust me, you don't want anything more than implied slash from me xD) fluff, humor and loads of angst! Consider yourselves warned. **

**Other than that, enjoy what I have to offer for now :D**

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><p>He was fumbling for Zabimaru when she found him- or, rather, when she stood by the doorway and he didn't notice. In this state her fukutaichou, although too talented for her to admit even to herself, wouldn't even notice a knife pressed to his throat until it cuts his flesh.<p>

She knew it wouldn't take him long to sprint into action. Everyone did, given the scene he caused at sotaichou's orders to remain in Soul Society.

He was predictable. He tries not to be, but he continues to fail _every time. _She still wonders how and why he became _her _fukutaichou, the first proud female head of the Kuchiki clan that not only made it as a mere shinigami, but worked all the way to becoming the taichou of the sixth division.

For a split second his eyes brightened with triumph when he found Zabimaru, and his all-too-familiar grin almost split his face in half, but he was quick to switch back to his previous state when he remembered his plan. He secured Zabimaru to his hip, still unaware of Byakuya's presence, and threw a dark cloak on.

"T-taichou!" he blurted, almost running into her. Exactly how long was she standing there...?

She could've been an enemy. At this rate, he won't survive _getting _to the World of the Living.

_Damn it, Abarai, get a hold of yourself! _He heard what he assumed Zabimaru scolding him.

He wiped the shock off his face and straightened his back. Automatically, recalling the last time they were at a disagreement regarding Rukia, he placed his hand on the hilt.

"She could be alive," he said, knowing fully well that, although Byakuya may not care about anything besides her honor as a Kuchiki, she cares a great deal about Rukia. "There was no body found. Her reiatsu..." he shook his head. "If there's a chance for her to be rescued, it's now." He paused, searching Byakuya's stoic expression. "By me."

He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard her scoff. It made his blood boil in rage.

"Even when Kurosaki Ichigo failed?" Her half-lidded eyes, ones that he used to think were beautiful until he started dreading the need to occasionally being stared down by them, closed slowly in a way that made her look hazy yet alert.

His grip on Zabimaru tightened. "Ichigo... he isn't fully in control of the hollow within him." He was defending the orange-haired boy, and yet he wasn't sure if he believed that claim himself. "He slips every once in a while. It must've-"

"Kurosaki Ichigo is missing with Rukia," she interrupted in her cold, emotionless tone. "The members of the twelfth division are still unable to detect their reiatsu, and the traces found did not belong to them. Kurotsuchi Mayuri is unable to fathom its power, but he claims that it's the darkest he's seen yet."

It's truly frightening to perceive so much from mere traces of reiatsu, let alone for this being to leave no traces of his _victims _behind.

_He _is frightened. Not for himself, he was taught to put his life at the end of the line, but for _everything_. Souls Society, his friends, the people he knew in the World of the Living, Rukia...

_Rukia. _

"They're not dead." He whispered; his knuckles turning white.

"You know nothing about this new enemy." He couldn't believe it, but her voice got even colder. It was like Rukia wasn't announced dead just a few hours ago, that neither Renji nor Ukitake's division were allowed to go look for her. It was like she never took Ichimaru's sword to the chest for her sister almost a year ago.

She spoke as if she was listing harmless, well-known facts.

"He or she may be far beyond you. Needlessly sacrificing yourself will not bring Rukia back, or confirm the news of her death to be true or not. However," she opened her eyes a bit, giving him a steely stare. "You are betraying the Gotei 13 by going after them in the World of the Living. If you ever come back with or without them, you will be arrested for high treason and-"

"Yea, and what?" he snapped, making her loose her composure for a second too long. "I'll bring shame to the sixth division, to the noble Kuchiki household, to _you? _Has it ever occurred to you that Rukia, _your sister, _could be in trouble, if not severely injured? That she may need my help at this exact moment, or Hell, even yours! And all you could think about is your honor and that old man's orders. Well, you know what? The Hell with sotaichou, honor and the sixth division! The Hell with the noble Kuchiki household and _you!" _

Once more, he made her loose her composure when he pointed that accusing finger at her. She almost went ten steps backwards, back to a time when she was an impulsive, stubborn girl that'd snap at anything pointed against her.

She contemplated using Senbonzakura on him for making her go this far.

"You know, Rukia actually loves you. She thinks that you're the best thing that ever happened to her." He said it with extreme bitterness, slightly tinted with envy. "She talks about you like you're some just goddess. Well, you know what I think you truly are? Oh, I'll tell you. You're a selfish, uptight, snobby _bitch!" _the words were laced with venom. For too long they were locked within him, for too long he wanted to throw them at her face. Using his Bankai on her that day was not enough to wash away all those years of hatred from his mind, not when she still proved to be stronger. "I don't care if Ichigo failed. I don't care if I'd get arrested, or a dishonorable discharge for going against the Gotei 13. I will find Rukia and I will bring her back. I will fight you if you stand in my way, taichou, and I'll-" he hesitated, giving Byakuya enough time to compose herself. "If I have to, taichou, I _will _fight you to the end."

Meaning until he can fight no more, or breathe no more... He was not a simpleton, she knew. He was not yet a match for her. He had a long way to go, and yet he's willing to die trying to save Rukia.

Rukia. If she had only known...

He unsheathed Zabimaru and pointed it at her direction. That fierce, determined look on his eyes could only be compared to flames; bright and destructive and unstoppable.

She sighed. She closed her eyes, decided that he has already seen too much. "I received no such order."

"Huh?" he lowered his sword a bit, his comical dumbfounded look quickly putting out the flames in his eyes.

"I was not given an order to restrain you."

He slowly lowered his zanpakutou until it's tip touched the ground. The tension on his shoulders ebbed away at the same time, and his eyes softened. "Taichou, I..."

He dropped his gaze to the tip of Zabimaru, the part that was still touching the ground. What was he supposed to say? Sorry for being exceptionally rude a few minuets ago, for misjudging your intentions? Or should he just thank her?

"Renji."

His head snapped up, making him wince a little at the pain that shot through his neck at the sudden movement of muscles. "Taichou...?" his tone was inquiring. He hadn't realized until this very moment that she never, not once in the time he served her, called him by his first name. It's always his last when she _really _had to get a hold of his attention, and often when she's displease by something he did. Most of the time she doesn't even bother addressing him, simply assuming that she's too good and he ought to know when she's in need of him.

Or so _he _assumed.

It's how the nobles thought of themselves, right? Or how they were raised to think and act around the likes of him.

But she was looking at him. _Properly _looking at him. Her eyes weren't half-lidded or filled with scorn; to him they suddenly looked beautiful once more.

Was he dreaming?

He shook his head and opened his mouth, ready to reassure her that he will do whatever it takes to bring Rukia back, because he can't think of anything else that she may be concerned over to the point where it'd show on her face.

"Be careful, Renji," she said, showing too much sadness for her liking but not daring to look away for reasons Renji couldn't believe.

The only time she looked sad, the only time she _showed _that she does; in fact, deal with overpowering emotions was when she spoke about her late husband to Rukia. He assumed it was hard for her to cover it up with the recollection of memories of those years she spent with him, but now it seemed different. Amplified, if he's not mistaken. There was not only sadness smoothing her pointy eyebrows away from her eyes, there was anguish in there as well.

He brought the tip of his fingers to his eyelids. Exactly how much did he drink? Would he still see her if he opened his eyes, looking at him like that and showing concern over his safety? What was she trying to do, anyway? She definitely wasn't the kind the toyed with people's minds like Mayuri often does. Or was she? Was she trying to confuse him into following sotaichou's orders?

_And when, exactly, did she start caring? _

She doesn't. Couldn't. She lived to keep him down, he was certain of it the moment she snatched Rukia away.

She's desperate, he decided, taking the easiest route. She just wants Rukia back, and she didn't believe that he'd come back alive.

He looked up in time to see her robes floating just before they disappeared from his line of view. He sprinted after her, called her just as she was about to disappear into a corner.

"I can do this, taichou!" he grinned, momentarily convinced that he may have a chance of returning alive. "I'll get Rukia back, and I'll save that dumbass of a Substitute Shinigami."

She halted for a heartbeat, waiting for him to add more to that promise, and then continued walking away without even sparing him a glance over her shoulders or uttering a single word of gratitude or reassurance. He didn't expect it, of course, but somehow he knew that she was disappointed. This time he didn't know why.

His grip on Zabimaru tightened. If she won't believe that he is a lot closer to being her match then he'll just have to show her. Then she'll be forced to give him a rematch.

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><p><strong>I actually planned on making this short -.- why doesn't anything go according to plan nowadays? Oh well...<strong>

**I'm not sure if I kept either two in character. They seemed fine to me at first but then...yea, I think I screwed up somewhere O.o I don't know, Renji just didn't seem like the kind of person that'd quickly catch up on these things, and Byakuya wouldn't just throw it at his face like that, what with him focused on being stronger than Byakuya and constantly questioning his feelings towards Rukia (oh yes, I believe that he does, in fact, love her. It's just too obvious in the anime and the manga) and his duties as a shinigami. I noticed that both tend to clash. **

**Ok, I'm gonna stop rambling now O.o again, let me know what you think :D **


	2. Inner Green Eyed Hollows

**Title: Inner Green Eyed Hollows.**

**Characters/Pairings: Implied MByakuya/FRenji, misunderstood MIkkaku/FRenji, Yumichika, a few unnamed sixth division shinigami. **

**Warning: Nothing serious, just a bit of foul language :P   
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**AN: A funny piece I started working on a couple of days ago. It was fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy reading it :D **

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><p>Byakuya took pride in knowing and relating to the women that have been, and still are, in his life.<p>

His mother was born of nobility, her marriage to his father arranged like many others before her. He was young when she died, but he remembers her cheerful demeanor that his father had the privilege to bask in for many years. From what he remembers, she was an attentive mother, and an obedient and loving wife. His grandfather always said that choosing her as his son's wife was the best decision he ever made. The rest of his family softened at the sound of her voice, or the mentioning of her name despite their ways.

His aunt was the perfect Kuchiki lady, soft spoken and beautiful and proud, albeit painfully shy around strangers. She wasn't as charismatic as his mother, but she was still respected and well-known among the other noble families, and for being Ginrei's daughter and Sojun's sister, many prominent families wanted her married to their brothers and sons and nephews. However, for reasons Buyakya never dared to ask Ginrei about, the former taichou of the sixth division saw that Kouga was most suitable for his daughter.

Byakuya often wondered if it was because she was deeply in love with him. He often wondered what it would've been like if she was married to a different man, if she had lived a bit longer, or at least long enough to meet Hisana.

He prefers not to think about her. She had lived longer than his mother did, he remembers her more vividly.

Hisana made him happy. He didn't know how to describe her without marring perfection. She was the only person that had power over him, a power so great that he didn't mind its existence nor did he try to diminish it. He didn't know if she was ever aware of it, but she had such control over him that she could've broken him if she desired to, shatter him into many countless pieces, and the worst part was that he'd love every part of it.

But she didn't. She never used that power, not once in the five years she's been married to him. She doted upon him, marveled at him as if he was a miracle standing before her, and always expressed her worries of displeasing him, which were all irrational.

Although unintentional, in the end she did break him. When she was on her deathbed, her small hands growing cold in his as she apologized for being an unworthy sister and an equally unworthy wife that troubled him with her weak body and constant search of her long-lost brother. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but as soon as the words left his mouth her hand had already gone limp in his.

Those women- all related and all deceased –shaped the man he is today.

Then there's Shihoin Yoruichi. What was there to say about Yoruichi? She used to be good at driving him to his limits, at making him loose his concentration and chase her around the manor like a commoner for a possession of his that she snatched. He could classify her as a childhood friend, but then she'd get cocky. He didn't want that. It took him a hundred years to learn how to keep his anger in check, to act like the proper head of the Kuchiki clan.

Of course, that's infinitely easier said than done with his fukutaichou around.

To his surprise, his family was pleased to learn that his next fukutaichou would be the first female seated officer in the eleventh division. He didn't know much about Abarai Renji at the time, other than her past with his brother-in-law and that something about her appearance made her seem exceptional, and that the male shinigami in his division were for some reason excited about her joining them, and that she had a strange, kind of masculine name.

He allowed himself to believe that she may, in fact, be of an advantage to him and his division. Senbonzakura warned him, repeatedly reminded him to never let his guard down or expect too much or too little from certain individuals.

For the first time in his life, he regretted not taking Senbonzakura's advice into consideration.

She was a _typical _eleventh division shinigami, and perhaps even ten times worse. He was appalled, to say the least, by the entire _being _that represented her. Maybe it's because he grew up with proper ladies (minus Yoruichi at certain times) that weren't incredibly, _infuriatingly_ loud or often sat or walked or talked like an eleventh division _brute._

Sometimes he even wonders if she knows that she is, in fact, a woman. Or that in his division she ought not to get drunk whenever she feels like it, or roam around in her pajamas that were more often than not provocative, or that tackling his men and wrestling them to the ground is similar to her doing the same to her former comrades, who were used to her and perhaps even considered her one of them, unlike his own that rarely get too close to anything remotely female, let alone one with a body similar to Matsumoto Rangiku's (minus the tattoos) but with an attitude of a raging baboon.

Yes, she and her zanpakutou are perfectly matched.

On top of that she's slow. And thick. He was starting to fear for the life of his men as their numbers increased in the fourth division barracks due to his fukutaichou practicing Kido with them.

He must've done something _really _bad in his former life to get punished with her.

What he hates the most about his fukutaichou was how he could never really get rid of her. Funny thing is, she wasn't even following him around to begin with. She only came to him when she had to, and after a couple of incidents, was careful enough to address him the way she should.

Sometimes she just makes him so _angry _it takes so much effort to keep it all hidden behind an apathetic mask.

_And jealous, _added Senbonsakura, amused at his master's thoughts. _Do you remember? _

Byakuya scowled internally. He scoffed. _I do not remember an occurrence that did not take place. _

_Then am I wrong to assume that it would be irrational to speak of it? _Oh, he was enjoying this far more than he should.

_Pointless is a more suitable word. _

Senbonzakura chuckled.

Oh, it happened alright. Byakuya remembers.

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><p>The weather in Seireitei was perfect that day. Sunny but not hot, breezy but not cold. The sky was clear, save for a few white puffs floating high in the air. Most of the shinigami that had the day off were either lazily sprawled on patches of grass or randomly strolling about, and the ones that were on duty still left their windows open and occasionally waited outside for orders to be shouted at them.<p>

Byakuya closed his office widows with a sigh. He could deal with the usual chirping of birds in the morning, but with too many shinigami with nothing to do plus a great weather is an entirely different kind of challenge, especially when he had to finish working on stacks of papers in less than two hours.

A relative was to be married soon. The father of said relative had recently died, and because Byakuya happened to be the 28th head of the family and the second closest to said relative, he was asked to take the father's place in the arrangements of this marriage as well as the coming funeral. Although he rarely saw said relatives, he agreed, because as a proud Kuchiki, it's his duty to tend to his family. He gave them his word. He would meet with them in two hours.

He would've normally been able to finish all the paper work in due time, because normally he doesn't get any paper work on his fukutaichou's day off. Apparently the fates were against him.

He frowned. Doesn't she always drop by in the mornings, usually clad in her pajamas, to ask if he needed any help before disappearing somewhere for the rest of the day? Did she simply assume that he'll never ask her to assist him, even on her weekends? It's true that he always turned down her offer, but that doesn't mean that he may never need it in the future...

He sighed, still facing the window. Was he already getting old, whining internally about something as insignificant as paperwork?

He was about to turn towards his desk when something exceptionally bright and red caught his attention. A few yards away from him sat his fukutaichou on grass, leaning against a tree next to Madarame Ikkaku. The third seat was in his shinigami robes, even though he wasn't on duty, and he looked utterly bored. Renji mirrored his expression, speaking every once in a while, and often glancing at his zanpakutou lying next to him on the grass, clearly wanting to challenge him to a rather brutal duel but being at a disadvantage without Zabimaru.

Byakuya thought nothing of it at first. But then something seemed to bother him when he realized that she was, as Rukia mentioned before, adapting too well to the fashion trends of Kurosaki Ichigo's world, and taking it ten steps further. Her wild red hair fell in a messy fashion down her back, strands obviously left untouched since she got out of bed. The tattoos on her forehead were covered by a navy bandana that matched her strapless top and cut off shorts. He didn't notice until that very moment that she practically had her entire body covered with tattoos. Or maybe he just didn't think a woman is daring enough to go _that _far, and...Has she always shown _that_ much cleavage?

As he continued to observe her, he realized that she wasn't really leaning on the tree bark. She was leaning on Madarame, their shoulders almost merging, in a casual and none-romantic manner. Not for Madarame, at least. Every low and high ranking shinigami knows that the third seat is more interested in fighting women than courting them. And if he happened to be interested in a woman, he wouldn't court her. He wouldn't even acknowledge the word; he'd just sleep with her.

Was she really that bored, going to such extents just to get that man's attention...?

_You're crossing a line with your judgment, Byakuya, _Senbonzakura spoke, startling him out of his revere. _Believe it or not,_ _your fukutaichou does have a code of honor. She had known him for a very long time. Switching divisions or getting promoted does not necessarily shatter relationships between long-time friends. _

He went back to his observations, not giving Senbozakura his opinion on the matter, mostly because he agreed with him. He did rush into judging his fukutaichou pretty unfairly.

"_Get off me, you stupid bitch!" _The statement, Madarame's incredibly loud, angry voice and his fukutaichou's sudden change in manners made him discard that last thought.

He wasn't sure how long Senbozakura kept him distracted, but suddenly Madarame's lying on his stomach, his back straddled by his fukutaichou that continued to shove his face into the dirt, her grin growing with his struggles. Somehow Ayasegawa Yumichika got to them unnoticed by Byakuya, standing a safe distance away. He touched his brow with his fingertips, an exasperated expression slowly sinking in place, as if he's seen them like that many times before.

Byakuya has been a taichou for a very long time, before either three joined. He's never seen her getting _this _comfortable with men; although he expected her to be used to their company given that she was, perhaps, the only female shinigami in Zaraki's division.

A familiar emotion, one he only suffers from when Yoruichi's twenty feet away, surged through his veins, making his fingers twitch but not close onto his palms.

His fukutaichou had a triumphant look on her face. Her lips moved, but Byakuya couldn't hear anything she said due to Madarame's curses drowning out all the voices around them.

The third seat swiftly, taking even his fukutaichou by surprise, flipped them over so that it was him straddling her. Before she could respond to his attack, he had her wrists pinned above her head. His face was still covered with grass and dirt, but Byakuya could only imagine what his expression must've looked like.

She squirmed underneath him, unable to do more because of the weight difference between the two.

To Byakuya's horror, members of his division stopped to stare at the two.

"Get off me, you fat ass!" she screeched.

"Not until you admit it," he replied, smirking. "Say it, Abarai. Titles are crap, _I'm _stronger."

At this point Byakuya was seething. He couldn't hear his zanpakutou warning him, all he could concentrate on was how _inappropriate_ the two looked in that position! Had they always behaved like this around each other? Was she always like that with the men in Zaraki's division? Exactly how comfortable is she with the third and fifth seat, and how comfortable does she get in _private? _

_Byakuya! _Senbonzakura was urging him to calm himself, but it was no use. The man was already leaving his office.

He got to the porch in time to see her get the upper hand in the situation. She freed one of her hands from his grip and shoved a handful of dirt in his mouth, making him reel backwards in shock, giving her enough time to straddle him again, this time with his back pressed to the ground. She laughed as he coughed up dirt, and secured his wrists above his head the same way he did with hers.

"Its Abarai _fukutaichou,_ third seat Madarame," she taunted. She leaned forward. Byakuya narrowed his eyes.

"You _bitch!" _he bellowed, struggling and occasionally coughing up dirt. "Get off and fight me like a real man!"

"Oh?" she raised her brows in mock surprise. "You wouldn't fight a puny, defenseless girl, now would you Ikkaku?" she innocently batted her eyelashes, making him go red with rage.

"Like hell I would!" He grinned, a mad glint suddenly appearing in his eyes. "And what would you do without Zabimaru, Abarai? Sixth division shinigami are shit without their zanpakutou."

She frowned. "Now I have to do something about that. As the sixth division fukutaichou, I can't let you get away with insulting Kuchuki taichou."

For a moment, Byakuya calmed at hearing that. He was surprised, to say the least, that someone other than Ginrei Kuchiki cared about his honor. He didn't expect it from his fukutaichou of all people, and it kept him calm long enough to _almost _listen to Senbonzakura and return to his office.

_Almost_ because of his fukutaichou's choice of punishment.

"It's true that I don't have Zabimaru with me," she said, smiling deviously. She leaned forward, her mane of red hair tumbling into Madarame's shoulders. "But I know a better way to remind you of your place."

Madarame narrowed his eyes.

Ayasegawa raised a brow, switching from exasperation to amusement. "This is new."

Bells rang in Byakuya's head at hearing that.

She leaned closer, her face merely inches away from his. "I could kiss you!" she declared happily, ruining the mood she created.

Madarame's eyes widened. Even from the distance separating them, Byakuya was still able to see his cheeks instantly flushing.

"_What?" _the rest sounded like nonsense to Byakuya as he thrashed and screamed underneath his fukutaichou that continued to laugh at the man's discomfort.

Before he knew it, Byakuya had used Shunpo to get to them. Papers and family meetings be damned, she had gone way too far for his liking!

Ayasegawa was the first that noticed him. "Kuchiki Taichou." He seemed a bit shocked, but bowed his head in respect nonetheless.

The men in his division scurried off once they felt a dangerous kind of waves radiating off of his reiatsu. They weren't sure if it was anger, but they hoped that it's nothing worse, and they certainly weren't going to stick around and find out.

His fukutaichou remained oblivious to his presence, still laughing at Ikkaku. She then pouted, and leaned even closer, their chests almost touching. "Aww, who knew that third seat Madarame would be intimidated by-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Madarame had flipped them over once more, straddling her again, though this time her head landed right in front of Byakuya's feet. She had to squint at first due to the sun obscuring his features, but as soon as she glimpsed Senbonzakura her brown eyes widened.

"Taichou!" she gasped.

Ikkaku looked up, completely unfazed. "Kuchiki Taichou," he greeted naturally.

She quickly pushed the momentarily distracted Ikkaku off and scurried to her feet, fixing her bandana on her head and brushing the dirt and grass out of her hair and off of her clothes.

He stared at her levelly. As expected, she soon cracked under his powerful gaze.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted. She probably didn't even know what she was apologizing for. "I didn't see you, taichou. I thought you already left-"

"It is apparent that I cannot leave my division in your hands yet, Abarai fukutaichou," he said icily.

For a brief moment she looked hurt, and for some reason he regretted saying that. "Taichou, I didn't-"

"In all accounts, Kuchiki taichou," interfered Ayasegawa, the only well-spoken, albeit unnaturally arrogant man in the eleventh division. "Abarai fukutaichou excels at what she does, especially under pressure. What you've just witnessed-"

"I don't recall asking for your opinion," he glared at him from the corner of his eyes, instantly silencing him.

When he turned back to his fukutaichou, he saw that she had her hands clasped behind her back. Her head was bowed, she was staring at him from under her eyelashes with such guilt he almost felt bad. Almost.

He had to admit though. She looked...slightly appealing when she wasn't acting like the opposite sex.

He frowned. She misinterpreted it and was about to apologize even more.

"You will be accompanying me to my manor, Abarai fukutaichou," he said.

She blinked. "Huh?" She shook her head. "But I wouldn't be allowed _in _the actual meeting...would I?"

"Of course not," he replied, making it sound like the stupidest thing she could've said, making her look away in shame at the same time. "You will be waiting for me outside, and as you wait you will be working on the paper work you made me neglect with your rather filthy behavior with men."

She gaped at him. Did he just suggest that...?

Madarame and Ayasegawa mirrored her expression. Madarame was the first to break, laughing insanely to the point where tears started forming in his eyes.

"That's...that's...that's whore in rich people talk! HAHAHAHA!" He got to the point where he's almost rolling on the ground.

"A tad harsh, Kuchiki taichou," muttered Ayasegawa. "And from you, unusual." He eyed him suspiciously, hiding a knowing smirk.

Byakuya decided to pretend that he didn't hear that.

Renji flushed, partly from embarrassment and partly from anger. Forgetting her place, she placed one of her hands defiantly on her hips and pointed the other at him. "That's not fair, taichou. Just because-"

"And dress properly, Abarai fukutaichou," he snapped, looking like his usually apathetic self and yet daring her to take it a step further. "I will not have the second, sixth, and thirteenth head of the noble Kuchiki household think indecently of my division." She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly cut her off. "It soils my honor as a Kuchiki, Abarai fukutaichou, and those who step over my honor will not be spared."

"Listen to me, taichou-!"

"_Now_, Abarai fukutaichou."

She stared at him for a while, partly stunned and mostly angered at him and Ikkaku who was still laughing. After a while of opening her mouth and closing it whenever he gives her one of his terrifying, sharp gazes she gives up. Her shoulders slump in defeat, but her fists shake by her sides.

"Right away, taichou," she said between her teeth, casting one last glare at Ikkaku that clearly said that whatever they were engaged in isn't over.

Well, Byakuya is just going to have to make sure that it is, and remains, over.

She stomped away, either not caring or not realizing that she is showing too much. "Stupid...Ikkaku...taichou...the hell got into his head..." she grumbled when she thought that he couldn't hear her.

He ended up going an hour early. He left her in one of the rooms and unloaded the stacks of papers he was supposed to be done with, secretly taking pleasure in seeing her back in her shinigami robes with her hair tied into a messy pony tail. Still she was grumbling under her breath as she went through them, and despite himself he actually thought that she...looked kind of cute when she's angry.

_I'd stop smirking if I were you, _commented Senbozakura when the meeting started. _They will get suspicious of your intentions when they start talking about funeral preparations. _

* * *

><p>Ever since, she's been very careful with the way she interacted with men. Around Byakuya, at least. He takes pride in the changes he made her take.<p>

_If you don't mind me asking, _interfered Senbozakura once more, _I though it was pointless to speak of an occurrence that did not take place?_

It took Byakuya a long time to answer. _It is. I was speaking hypothetically. _

And yet he sounded so sure and confidant of himself! Senbonzakura chose to leave it at that.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm still not sure if I'm keeping them in character. Female Renji always seemed like a spunky tomboy to me, and I've never seen a jealous Byakuya so...there you go :P please, let me know what you think! Even if you think it sucked. I need to know if I should work on certain areas, so don't be shy :D I don't bite, I promise! <strong>


	3. Knight with the Bloody Armor

**Title: Knight with the Bloody Armor**

**Characters/Pairings: Kouga/Byakuya's unnamed aunt...hmm. No gender bending :P  
><strong>

**Warnings: ...I wouldn't call it violence, but swords clash and blood is spilled :\ It's a pretty short scene, actually. Not that descriptive. **

**AN: Oh my dear god. I am so embarrassed. Really, I wanna hide behind a rock and stay there for the next fifty years. I'm so sorry about the numerous mistakes in the Dream chapter. I must've been editing it with my eyes closed. But no worries, I took it down and I'm currently re-editing it whenever I can. But until I re-post it, here's an old piece to keep you busy. I'm not very proud of it, but hey, it's short :P oh, this is my first attemp at 2nd person POV. Let me know what you think :) Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>A strange sensation courses through you. It's similar to the one you've felt upon escaping the safety confines of your mansion, and yet it still feels different. It froze the blood in your veins, rendered your limbs useless, robbed you of your ability to speak, and slowed the rhythmic beating of your heart before speeding it up again.<p>

_Fear. _

Running away was a very daring step on your behalf, and now you think that you may have gone a bit too far for the sake of punishing your father. The first spark appeared when you've managed to get a good distance away. It was later re-ignited when darkness fell, and it's nothing compared to this fear leaving you in a weak, paralyzed state.

And the thing is, you can't look away. Though you want, more than anything. You'd rather have your father's silent, angry eyes on you, your brother's soft disappointed face, but not this. _Anything _but this.

Living with two shinigami your entire life; you're more than aware of the type of life they lead. You're used to the stories you hear. You know that you father must've done gruesome things to keep, restore, and to protect the peace in Seireitei, and you're sure that your brother has his own fair share of tales he'd rather not tell to his _sweet and fragile _little sister. However, you were also smothered into mansions and tea parties and ceremonies where ladies of higher and lower ranking noble families surrounded you with the latest gossips and fashion trends.

You've heard stories about shinigami in action. You've seen your father and brother practicing. But you've never actually seena shinigami engaged in a life-threatening battle.

Especially one with a zanpakutou so powerful.

Powerful...and terrifying.

You didn't think you'd run into anyone that may recognize you, especially with an old cloak on. Despite living with shinigami, you were still shielded from the darkness of the world. You assumed that _all _shinigami were like your father and your brother, you didn't think that they'd get drunk and harm a random woman passing by. They simply wouldn't, you believed, because they're the type of men that uphold the law above everything else. They're courageous and honorable, they're not drunken rapists.

No amount of words could explain the hatred you feel towards yourself for being so ignorant.

It shouldn't matter anyway. You are a princess. Every princess ought to have a knight in a shinning armor, and yours appeared right when you needed him most. The question is; why did he have to be so terrifying? You're not one to complain, but isn't he supposed to make you feel safe?

You expected blood, because the assaulting shinigami refused to leave when he issued his warning. You opened your mouth, ready to beg for both sides to put and end to a bloody battle before it could even start, but then the strangest thing happened. They charged, their zapakutou poised threateningly before them. Your savior didn't even strike a warrior's pose. He released a bit of his reiatsu as a one last silent warning, and you couldn't help but fall from the sheer power nearly crushing you to dust. Calmly, he unsheathed his zanpakutou and brought the glistening blade near his lips, as if he was about to kiss it.

The shinigami charging towards him froze. Their zanpakutou were glowing, and from the looks on their faces you knew that that was not supposed to happen. With whatever energy left that wasn't being oppressed by your savior's, you try to analyze the situation, but then suddenly the shinigami started attacking each other. They were confused, and mostly scared. Their movements were mechanical, clearly not their own, and each was trying to convince the other that they're unable to control their zapakutou.

Turning comrades against each other. Was that his power? It can't be. A power like that belonged to hollows.

And then it got worse.

They stopped attacking each other. Instead, each one of them drove his own zanpakutou into his own flesh. Some were quick, others were slow and painful. You couldn't help the audible gasp that escaped your parted lips. You couldn't help shaking, this time not from his reiatsu overpowering yours, but from the fear that felt like it was capable of tearing your soul to pieces.

It didn't take long for them to fall. Their blood soaked the dirt to such an extent that the earth could absorb no more. The wounds were too ugly to look at, the flesh cut in a very clumsy manner and the sword pierced at odd places. The mere sight made you feel sick, so sick that you pressed your palm to your mouth in fear of throwing back the remaining sustenance in your stomach.

You're not ignorant; you could put two and two together. It wasn't comrade against comrade, it was zapakutou against wielder. A violent clashing of two sides of the same person, an inner battle that ventures out and hurts the soul, mind, and body.

_This is not right, _you try convincing yourself. Your knight is not supposed to have a sinister feel to him, you should not be afraid of him. You should not wish to be chased and beaten by the drunken shinigami instead.

He observed his dead colleagues for a second before sheathing his zanpakutou and concealing his flaring reiatsu. The shapeless burden is lifted, but you're still unable to move. You hold on to the hope that he'd forget about you and walk away, but you know that it's impossible, especially with your panicked breathing and loud, tearless sobs barely muffled behind your hand.

He turns towards you, and the first thing you notice is the bright, reddish-pink streak standing out boldly in his raven hair. You recognize it as a symbol- much like the scarf of your family passed from one heir to the next. -of a middle-class noble family that started a smooth, tight working relationship with your father nearly two decades ago; but you've never seen this man before.

_Of course you wouldn't know him, _you chided yourself. It makes sense, what with becoming a shinigami comes the price of spending most of your life in the academy and then the Gotei 13.

Suddenly he's approaching you, and you can't help but shrink further away, as if you're trying to somehow submerge yourself with the dirt.

_How undignified, _that voice snickered. _And you wonder why you're not father's favorite child..._

You quickly shut it out.

"Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice startles you. You look up and you find him kneeling before you, his face now inches away from yours. It was perhaps the closest you've ever been to man that wasn't related to you, and you can't help but take the opportunity to drink in his features. They were sharp and hardened like most shinigami, but the overall shape of his face was thinner. His eyes were the brightest shade of green. They reminded you of the emeralds you're so drawn to...ah yes, you had a fondness for green eyes.

You averted your eyes; feeling your cheeks burning. Fear's cold grasp on your heart was loosening. Replacing those phantom hands was a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. The closest thing you could compare it with it is the fluttering of a million butterfly wings.

He smiled. You silenced the voice of logic and decided then and there that he was not evil. You didn't care about how Genrei stressed over her trusting no other voice. A creature so beautiful can't possible be evil.

"So I take it that you're not hurt?" There's amusement in his voice, and you can't help but smile.

You nod, because you don't trust your voice.

"Can you stand up?"

Before you could speak, he had his hands on your elbows and had lifted you up as if you weighted nothing. The movement, although carried off with good intentions, was sudden. It makes you dizzy, and when you finally manage to clear your head, you find yourself leaning heavily on his chest.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asked, placing his hands on your shoulders as he attempts to peer at your face.

Blushing furiously, you quickly scramble away, keeping a decent amount of space between the two of you. Immediately you miss the warmth the contact provided, and wonder why the elder women in your family were appalled by the mere sight of a man holding a woman. It's true that your experience was brief, but... it gave you comfort. You can't deny it, and you don't know how, but it made you momentarily forget about his immensely frightening skills.

In an attempt to avoid those enticing green eyes of his, your eyes landed on your now dirty and mostly torn kimono, realizing with horror that it's barely covering your chest, and from below it was cut all the way to your knees.

He seemed to have noticed before you did, because the warm, dark purple piece of fabric that fell on your shoulders is definitely not yours. It was clean, and so soft you couldn't help but rub it against your cheek. When you look back up at your savior, you see him readjusting the sash around his waist, being a shade lighter of the purple draped over your shoulders. It didn't help that it left most of his chest exposed for your curious eyes.

"You must forgive me," he said, wrapping the fabric around you when he saw that you weren't moving. "But I'm afraid it's the only thing I can offer."

You smile at him. It goes against everything that raised you into the fully grown noblewoman you are today, but you imagined that he did that just to have a reason to be closer to you.

"My name is Kouga," he said.

You eagerly tell him your name, and without thinking, you included your sir name. His eyes widened slightly, and you silently cursed yourself. Great. If he had thought, unconsciously or not, that you were the slightest bit interesting he would've immediately shooed that thought out of his head, assuming that a Kuchiki lady her age is already betrothed, if not married.

The fluttering in your stomach is replaced with a heavy, morose feeling in your chest. It shocks you, because you've always been proud of your heritage.

"Kuchiki-sama," he bows, and there's nothing left of your smile. "Forgive me. I should've known. You're Kuchiki taichou's daughter." He grinned at your expression. "Yes, I'm his subordinated, currently unseated." You thought you caught something in his tone, but then his lips brushed your knuckles and the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl was overpowering. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

You tell him that the feeling is mutual, ignoring the gory images of the dead shinigami tugging at the corner of your mind.

"Please, let me take you back. Taichou is probably getting worried."

You're not sure if he noticed, but that hopelessly happy smile on your face turns sour. Whatever fantasies you have involving this man, Genrei will not approve of. Kouga was clearly powerful and merely a few years older than you, but he would still be deemed unworthy. You don't understand your family, and sometimes you wish they'd explain themselves, but you know that it's no use. It's for your own benefit, they say, and they're right.

Besides, there's not a single girl you know that haven't momentarily fallen flat on her face for a young, handsome shinigami.

Yes, he's just that. A handsome face with a scary zanpakutou in your father's division. He's not even a seated officer. Chances are too high, you will never see him again.

You just linger on the thought that, if you're forgiven for disobeying your father, his affect will stay with you long enough to keep the haunting images of slain men at bay when you're alone in your bed.

* * *

><p><strong>I've always felt that Kouga had this strong affect on the people around him in his early days, in a way that sort of pulled them towards him without them realizing it. Kind of like how Muramasa had total control over the strongest zanpakutou spirits. I figured that that's how he got married into the Kuchiki's, because Genrei didn't seem too impressed with Muramasa.<strong>

**I'm afraid that updates won't be as frequent as I want them to for at least another month. Sorry guys, exams are hell :( I'll try, but I can't make any promises. **


	4. Proposal

**Title: Proposal. **

**Characters/Pairings: FRenji/MByakuya, mentioning of others. **

**Warning: Implied and suggestive themes, nothing more. **

**AN: I don't know what to think of this piece. It's been on my mind for a while. Renji seems out of character to me, but considering the situation I think she'd loose a bit of her edge. OR I could be loosing my touch -.-' meaning I need to have more bleach-time...**

**I'll let you be the judge ^_^ enjoy! **

She developed a habit of coming to his manor unannounced.

It no longer bothers him that he's not in a presentable state, even when she showed up dressed in her shinigami robes. Slowly, whether it was deliberate or not, she had striped him of not only his pride, of the Kuchiki honor he worked so hard to maintain, but she had also shamelessly tore her way through every wall he spent so many years building in vain, of all the obstacles he placed to separate himself from the world below him.

He was staring intently at Hisana's framed picture when she found him. He was trying to find solace in the frozen image of her violet-blue eyes, but the lingering, hesitant presence of his lieutenant continuously nipped at the back of his neck.

He heard her take a few daring steps. She had always been reckless and loud, even when she tried not to. "Taichou?"

He was without his haori, his scarf, or even the standard shinigami uniform. His hair was free of the kenseikan holding his bangs away from his eyes. The strands felt lighter, less strained, and for once he's grateful for the shield they provided. Until the sun of the next morning rises in Seireitei, he's just Byakuya. So why does she call him using his title _now? _

He didn't even acknowledge her presence. He doesn't owe it to her, she has done enough damage. He kept his eyes on Hisana's picture even as she walked closer, and before he knew it she was standing right next to him. He stubbornly closed his eyes.

He will _not _be looking at those damnable, sad, pleading brown eyes. _He will not! _

The silence lingering between them is nothing close to comfort. It feels heavy, and so thick it almost leaves the occupants breathless.

"Is that her?" She suddenly asked, and he couldn't help but look down at her.

She was staring at Hisana's picture. A small smile was on her face. "She was beautiful."

He opened his mouth, because he's always ready to agree to that particular statement, but he quickly stops himself when he remembered that she did not come all the way to his mansion to admire his deceased wife's beauty.

"And she looks so much like Rukia," she continued, still looking at the picture. "But I bet that she doesn't kick you if you'd tease her about her height." She winced, most likely at a recent memory that included his sister assaulting his lieutenant for mocking her height. "Or throw a couple of punches when her leg's injured."

She was beginning to stray. It was another habit of hers he didn't like very much.

He sighed, and closed his eyes once again. "Why did you come here, Renji?"

She looked surprised at hearing her first name. He doesn't understand why she should, or why he should go back to formalities after everything they've been through.

"I-I didn't get to apologize, taichou." She paused when she saw his eyebrows twitch, and quickly averted her eyes back towards the photo of Rukia's older sister. "And I wanted you to know that my decision had nothing to do with-with-" she cut herself midway, suddenly realizing that she didn't know _how _toexplain herself.

She sighed when he didn't speak in the lengthy period of silence that soon followed. "I'll just say it, taichou. What we had was probably the best damn thing I'll ever know, but I just couldn't-"

"My question was simple, Abarai fukutaichou," he cut her off, his tone icy. For some reason his formality takes her by surprise, and suddenly she misses the sound of her name smoothly rolling off of his tongue. "It required a simple answer without an elaboration, and you have already given me that. Therefore your presence here is uncalled for."

She shrunk at his words. She couldn't help it; she was reminded of him before all the mess with Rukia's execution began, back when he was just a man she needed to defeat.

"You're mad at me," she concludes. He doesn't open his eyes. She puts her hand on his arm, and he immediately stiffens. "If there's anything I could do-"

"There's _nothing _to be done, Abarai fukutaichou," he opened his eyes. They landed on her, sharp like daggers but conflicting enough to stay at bay. "You have soiled my honor. Be thankful that you're still alive, that you're still my fukutaichou, and leave."

He knows that he's beginning to loose. He's staring at that pleading face again, and right now he wants nothing but solitude.

He looks away and closes his eyes for the third time, hoping that she'd get the message and leave.

But she lingers, quietly so, with her hand still resting upon his arm.

"You know that I didn't mean to, Byakuya." She said.

That was the last straw. He snapped at hearing her say his name.

"You are never to address me like that again, Abarai fukutaichou." His tone is dangerously leveled as he speaks, and on the inside he feels like screaming. "I am your taichou. I am the 28th head of the noble house of Kuchiki, and you are beneath me." He felt her hands quickly withdrawing from his arm. She most likely winced at that last statement. It had stung. _Good, _his old, rebellious self cheered.

"Countless of times I have given you access to my bed," he added. "There mere suggestion is against everything I believed, against everything my grandfather preached. You have degraded me to a level other noble heads gladly sink to everyday, and it is that of a swine. My oath to stay honorable was mended far beyond repair, and yet I allowed you to continue."

He paused, thinking for a moment that she must've left. He heard her breathing lightly, and chose then to open his eyes once again. This time he didn't feel weak when steely grey met earthy brown, and it gave him enough drive to continue. "I have asked you to marry me for reasons greater than my oath, and instead of feeling honored and grateful that I'm even considering making a wife out of a barbarian such as yourself, you reject me."

And then it came crashing down on her. That miserable, hurt expression he loathes so much, the exact same look he thought he'd get rid of when he asked her to marry him. And yet, she doesn't retort. Not with him, unlike the way she lashes out on Madarame Ikkaku or Kurosaki Ichigo.

"I'm sorry," she repeats, and this time the pain on her face leaks into her voice, "but I just can't do it. I'm not-" at this point she gestured helplessly at Hisana's picture. "-_her. _I'm not wife-of-noble-head material, let alone a Kuchiki head!" her voice rose slightly, and he knew that if he doesn't stop her she might go into a hysteric fit, but he couldn't bring himself to make her stop when she was speaking with too many emotions trying to choke her. "I'm not _anyone_'s wife, Byakuya. I'm a fighter. If I give up on my life as a shinigami, I'll have _nothing, _not even you. You wouldn't look at me the same way you do now, because I'd be someone else. I'm not-" and once again she gestured at Hisana's picture. "-That beautiful, composed, perfect, obedient woman your family expects you to marry. I'm sorry, but I can't change for the sake of a bunch of old men."

"This does not concern my family."

"Like hell it doesn't!" She let out a frustrated sound. "You think they'll be ok with this, with you marrying a common Rukongai rat, recently turned whore of yours?"

He spun towards her. The gesture was so sudden it made her step back on instinct. "I am no noble swine, Abarai fukutaichou." His tone was calm enough, but his expression gave him away. "I shall not continue to dishonor myself and the woman I-" he stopped, realizing that he was walking on ice too dangerously thin to be walked on.

She was looking at him with slightly widened eyes. He felt urged by her to continue, or at least find a different word fitting enough with his abandoned sentence.

He sighed. He closed his eyes, because he'd be damned if he'd let her see how weak she makes him feel. "I refuse to dishonor you anymore than I already have, Renji."

Minuets pass, and he doesn't hear a word coming from her. The only indicator of her presence was the rhythmic sound of her breathing. He feels her coarse hand on his cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin over his sharp, high cheekbone in an attempt to pry his eyes open. He manages to ignore it for a while, but as expected he eventually gives in.

"You never did." She was smiling. Not in a way that suggested glee, but in a way that conveyed serenity, or contentment. "I may not be your wife, but I'll always be your fukutaichou. I'll always have your back."

_That's not enough. _He wanted to scream at her, shake the approval out of her, but instead he found himself merely staring down at her, leaning slightly into her touch despite his inner objections. He's selfish, he knows, for his desire to have more from what a fukutaichou is capable of offering. Then again, he was never denied of anything before. He was the only promising heir, his wishes were always fulfilled.

She removed her hand from his cheek, and the urge to grab it with his own and put it back on was almost too overpowering to bear. She stood on her toes and brushed her lips on the spot her thumb caressed.

She was gone in a flash, and he was finally granted the privacy he desired from the start. The feel of her lips, brief as the moment was, left a burning mark on his skin. Once again he was aching for her.

In his solitude he did not find peace. Until the crack of dawn he cursed at the loathsome weakling that he had allowed himself to become, the one who's every fiber ached for her and the one who kept begging him to call her back and ask her to stay with him for the night.

**Hmm...too brief? OOC? Too randomly put together? **

**On an unrelated note: I'm really intrigued by the story of Byakuya's mysterious aunt (AKA Kouga's wife) I don't know where it came from, but...let just say that, if you're interested, you may want to keep an eye out for a separate one shot dedicated to her ;) **


	5. Void

**Title: Void **

**Characters/Pairings: Male Hinamori, Female Hitsugaya, mentions of Female Aizen and a few others. As for the pairings, it really depends on how you see it. **

**Warning: None.**

**Author's Note:  I think that MRenji/FByakuya are no longer qualified for being the main characters in this drabble series, because really, I'm getting too many ideas about too many characters. Anyway, I'll be worrying about that later. This one shot is MHinamori-centric. It takes place sometime after Aizen betrayed everyone and before Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, Ikkaku and Yumichika went to the Living World and enrolled in Karakura High (funniest. Episode. EVER!) It's not that long, mostly just him pondering over the sudden changes that turned his world upside down and...I'm just gonna let you read :P enjoy! **

For a long time he sleeps. He can open his eyes, he knows that and so does Unohana-taichou, but he doesn't try and she doesn't press him. She plays along, checking his temperature and blood pressure and whatnot every few days like she does with her other patients. He doesn't know why she goes through the trouble, but he's grateful.

He thought that his reluctance to resurface was strange, because he's always been afraid of the dark. No one knew besides Shiro-chan and Aizen-taichou- _He almost smirked. Even in thought, she's still Aizen-taichou. - _For the first time, he's eager to embrace it and stay within its confines for as long as possible.

He doesn't really know how long he's been out, but he assumes that months have passed. His old friends, Abarai and Kira fukutaichou, came by a couple of times. Matsumoto fukutaichou gossiped a lot over his sleeping head. Rukia told him many stories from the living world. He heard that sotaichou's been asking about his condition. His subordinates visited with get-well wishes and flowers. Even the third and fifth seat of the eleventh division bickered next to his bed as their fukutaichou ate all his candy.

And then there was Shiro-chan. She never spoke, but she was always there, twice everyday, once in the morning on her way to her office and once in the evening right after she delivers hers and Matsumoto's paperwork. He felt her presence every time, and often he was temped to open his eyes just to _see _her...to make sure that she was silent because she was just being her reserved self, not because she was angry at him.

He had just lost his idol in every way imaginable. He'd go mad if he lost his childhood friend, because really, she's currently the only one holding him together. He knows, and he hates to admit it, but without her he'd fall apart. She was just so strong like that, carrying his burden along with her own.

He's everything she's not: A pathetic weakling that can't even put on a brave face and _pretend _that he's over his captain's betrayal for the sake of his subordinates.

The truth is; he misses her. He feels like Soul Society's biggest traitor by merely thinking of it, but it can't be helped. He misses her; he misses _Aizen-taichou_, that kind, intelligent woman he looked up to. He missed her compassion, her patience with him, the warmth her smile seemed to emit, how she always had the right answers for all his questions and how she always went through extremities just to put a stop to the injustices that sometimes occur in Soul Society. It's true that Central 46 loathed her for doing that, but they still had great respect for her.

She was the perfect saint. He just couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of her betrayal, even though he was the first to taste it. He knows that he'll meet her again in a year or so. He'll have to wake up as soon as possible and train himself and his squad. They're in dire need of some sort of guidance, and if he left them on their own for too long they wouldn't be fit enough to fight for the coming winter war, and Soul Society needs as many shinigami as possible, and even with all the shinigami combined, victory is not certain.

At some point, he had tried to convince himself that she really was dead, that this was all one very big, nasty nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. She was impaled by her own zanpakutou. Last time he saw her, her eyes were lifeless. Her body was hanging limp fifty feet above him. She was covered with her own blood, not his, and his last living memory of her was when he had asked her permission to stay with her as she worked over random papers she must've neglected. Last time he saw her, her smile did not resemble that of a serpent, nor did she thank him for allowing her to manipulate him. No, Aizen-taichou was an honorable woman. She would _never-! _

A treacherous tear trickled from the corner of his closed eye to his ear. His eyebrows twitched and his fists clenched. For a brief moment he thought of gouging his eyes out just so that he won't have to shed another tear for her.

_It's no wonder Aizen-taichou used me, _he thought bitterly. Why wouldn't she? He was simply too perfect: a weak, pathetic, naïve little boy that couldn't get his head out of the clouds.

She wanted to be a goddess so badly..._why? _Most Gods were either feared or hated. As a shinigami and a captain, she was loved by everyone. Even Kuchiki Byakuya, that proud noble that looked down on everyone, bowed his head in her presence. She had great influence inside and outside her division; people simply did her bidding because they truly _wanted _to. Many looked up to her, many came to her for advice, and everyone was simply eager to be in her presence.

She was a visionary woman. Highly educated, reasonable, modest, elegant, kind, _beautiful..._

She was _his _goddess. Day and night, he had worshipped even the dirt she walked upon. He had gone out of his way just to please her, to ease the burden of being a captain by going over his limit and nearly exhausting himself into a coma. Why couldn't she just settle for that? She had already had _everything, _so why is she risking it all by looking for more? Wasn't it enough? Wasn't _he _enough?

Maybe he just won't ever wake up. Who knows, his misery might actually kill him one day. It definitely sounds like a better idea than coming to terms with reality, which requires him to accept the fact that this is all real, that Aizen is their enemy and detaining her or even killing her should the necessity arise- and it most likely will-is their first and utmost priority.

Suddenly he felt it again, the faint reiatsu of his long-time friend that was oddly cooler than every other reiatsu he knows of. The tense muscles of his jaws relaxed upon feeling her getting closer, most likely taking the vacant seat next to his bed.

_Shiro-chan..._

Once again he contemplated opening his eyes just to see her expression, to tell her that he was more sorry than he's ever been before in his life, that he's willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to her and to everyone.

"I'll be gone for a while," she said, startling him and almost making him give an audible gasp. It ached more than he thought it would to hear her voice again. Not the angry, scolding voice of Hitsugaya-taichou. No, it was the even, controlled voice of the shiro-chan he's known for so long. "I've been assigned to the World of the Living. I will not be visiting for a few weeks, so don't panic and wet your bed, ok? Unohana-taichou is not my grandmother, she will not tolerate it."

He smiled despite himself.

"Tch. Look at you, smiling like an idiot in your sleep." He heard the smile in her voice, and it almost made him laugh.

In the end he kept his eyes closed, finally deciding that he'd leave it for another day. He knows that he'd burst into tears the moment he sees her, and she's already burdened enough. He'll get stronger, somehow, and when she returns he'll make sure that she sees it with her own eyes. One way or another, he'll stop thinking of Aizen as his treacherous taichou, and try his best to believe that she is truly his dead idol.

If he can't do it for his subordinates, for Soul Society, or even for his sanity he'd do it for Shiro-chan.

**Ahh, I'm really beginning to love Male Hinamori. He's too adorable for his own good~ **

**I have a few ideas for more one shots of him and Female Aizen, because its twisted and dysfunctional and I'm weird for liking it O.o and there will be more Female Hitsugaya-centric one shots, but next chapter will be (wait for it!) Female Ishida :D I know, I'm taking way too long with it, but please keep in mind that it's female Uryuu. She's a lot more complicated than I thought. **

**Anyway, that's all for now :D I think I nailed the characterization in this chapter, but please, let me know what YOU think :D **


	6. Reviving the Dead

**Title: Reviving the Dead. **

**Characters/Pairings: FRukia, sort of one-sided MRenji/FByakuya, mentioning of MHisana. **

**AN: Hi O.o It's been too long. Well, in case you're wondering, I'm alive :D however my old computer isn't :( I just got a new one, but I lost a lot of documents. It really sucks, because I had many different one-shots written for this D: they just needed bit of editing and…GAH! Anyway, this will have to do for now. It's my way of saying sorry. Also, if you have a specific theme in mind, or a one-shot centered on a specific character (gender-bent or not!) please don't hesitate to ask! I like requests :3 **

**Also, apologies in advance if the writing sucked! I haven't written in anything Bleach-related in a long time.**

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><p>Seireitei's noble clans had their own burial grounds. They were, expectantly, grand and private. The family members were the only ones allowed in. Not even those that had marital ties with the deceased were allowed to pay their respects beyond the guarded iron gates, although some managed to visit the grave of their beloved once or twice with the help of many powerful clan leaders, and after said clan leaders pleaded on their behalf to the other clan leaders in multiple meetings.<p>

For reasons commoners couldn't comprehend, their burial grounds were too sacred. Only those of the same noble blood were permitted, and that's about it. Just one firm, unchanging rule that still didn't seem necessary.

Byakuya obviously had privileges as a clan leader, Renji mused, for her family to have allowed her to bury her husband amidst the many dead Kuchiki nobles, and for her bringing Rukia to visit her brother's grave for the first time, escorted by her fukutaichou. Three common Rukongai street crawlers on 'holy' noble grounds, one already buried deep within its confines and two paying their respects. He could only imagine the look on her clan leaders' faces when she told them…or perhaps she didn't? Surely they wouldn't stand by and let her go as far as giving Renji access…

He frowned from where he stood, merely steps behind the two women he's known all his life.

Rukia was quiet. It came as a surprise to him, because he knows that Rukia tends to become emotional about the people she had loved and lost. Heck, she still tears up whenever they talk about Shiba Kaien! Or she smiles that small sad smile when Ukitake Taichou mentions him, or compliments her by saying that she was becoming more and more like him every day.

Then again, she had known Kaien for a while, and grown quite attached to him. Her brother left her when she was still a baby, and died years before she even thought of becoming a shinigami. She had no memories of him. She never saw his smile, heard him laugh, or felt his hand running through her hair. All she ever had of him is a framed picture provided by Byakuya and a few stories whispered by her maids.

Renji stared harder at his friend. Was it possible that she was only paying her respects with regards to her sister? He then looked at Byakuya, and felt that he shouldn't blame Rukia. She had that sad look on her face again.

"He never stopped searching." Of course, her voice was still in perfect control. "I believe he would've eventually found you, if he had lived longer. He was so persistent."

Something in Rukia shifted. "What-what did the other Kuchiki clan leaders think of him? Nee-Sama, you once mentioned a grandfather, the former taichou of the sixth division." She was watching Byakuya's expression with extreme caution, even though the older Kuchiki didn't look the least bit upset about where Rukia was going with her question.

She nodded. "Kuchiki Genrei, my grandfather…_our _grandfather."

Rukia, although startled, seemed reassured. She smiled. "What did he think of my brother, Nee-Sama?"

A faint of a smile tucked at the corner of Byakuya's lips. She looked back at her late husband's resting place. "Genrei-Jii-Sama was very patient and lenient. He was perhaps easier to reason with than the other Kuchiki heads, mostly because he wasn't too consumed with his own power to hear both sides of the story.

"However, he still saw things differently. He was old, after all, and if he were to marry me to any man, it wouldn't matter if that man had noble or common blood within him. He truly didn't care about status and wealth, so long as the man was good and pure at heart…but because I was to take his place as the taichou of his division, he required the man to have strength."

Rukia looked down at her folded hands, realization slowly kicking in. "My brother was not suitable."

Byakuya's smile faded. Her expression was empty again. "He was far too weak. His health was constantly deteriorating. The simplest things made him go into coughing fits. Genrei-Jii-Sama…he didn't hate him. He thought him too kind for his own good, and a completely unfit husband of one of the strongest female taichous of the Gotei 13, but he didn't hate him."

A short interval later, Renji found his voice. "What was he like?"

Both women were startled. If Renji knew any better, they probably forgot that he came with them.

He flushed instantly, quickly averting his eyes and nervously scratching the back of his neck. "S-sorry about that, Taichou, I didn't-"

"He was the one thing I desired most, and the one thing my grandfather would not have let me have." Her answer surprised him, more so than the calm way in which she spoke, as if it was ok for him to pry on her private life. "He simply loved, even when he couldn't find a reason to love. My family saw it as weakness, and sought to put a stop to it."

"But you married him anyway," said Rukia softly.

She nodded, falling silent. When she spoke again her voice was slightly lowered, and Renji had to lean a little closer to hear her properly.

"I would have had it no other way," she said, gently laying her hand on the headstone. "Genrei-Jii-Sama was disappointed in me for the very first time in his life. If it had been another man, I might have felt shame, but I felt nothing because your bother was worth the fight."

Rukia smiled again. She walked to the closest rosebush and picked a few bright red roses. She used shunpoo and picked different flowers from every bush she could find, until she had a varied, exotic bouquet cradled in her arms. As she was laying them on his grave, one flower at a time, Byakuya's eyes turned sharply to Renji's, even though her words felt like the were meant for Rukia.

"That was the first and last time I shall ever disappoint Genrei-Jii-Sama. Rukia, your brother was precious. He is irreplaceable. I will fight my family for no other man, regardless of strength or status. Above my honor stood your brother, and now that he stands no more I will defend my honor before everything else, even my own desires."

The hidden meaning behind her words dawned upon him. The reason why she didn't stop Rukia when she dragged Renji along, or why she hadn't spoke of what happened between them just a few days ago, of his rather clumsy and most undignified confession…

And just like that, she adds another scar to his chest, very close and similar to the one Rukia left not too many years ago. This is her answer, her decision on the matter.

He should be happy that he's still her fukutaichou, because if it had been anyone else he would've at least been suspended for a couple of months, but she…she is refusing him, demanding of him to cease his pursuit of her because as long as she had Rukia's bother nestled deeply into her memories, she would never look at him as anything more than a fukutaichou that will eventually leave her division to become a taichou of his own.

Her husband's presence is permanent in her life. Renji's was not. He was just another passerby.

He truly wished for the ground to swallow him whole, even though he had Byakuya's back again. All those words he spoke to her, all the preparation and rehearsing and imploring…it had all been in vain. Nothing had gone through to her.

He must've looked stupid, talking on and on about his boyish feelings when she clearly didn't want to be near him. Just thinking back on that night in her office made him feel so sick he was almost swaying.

Rukia had laid all her flowers. He bowed his head.

"Taichou," he said, his voice slightly horsed. "I'll…I have…they're waiting for me to…" he cleared his throat. Rukia frowned upon sensing his discomfort. Byakuya's face remained the same. "I'll excuse myself, taichou."

Rukia raised a brow, most likely wondering when her rather loud and obnoxious friend got so formal.

Byakuya turned back to her husband's grave. "You may leave, Abarai fukutaichou."

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><p><strong>One last note! <strong>

**I was looking at the old reviews, and I realized that I DID get a request for a FIshida one-shot! I have an idea in mind, and I think I tried getting it on paper once, but it's most likely gone now. Eh, it's interesting enough to me ^_^ though I'll have to start from scratch…**


	7. Calm Before the Storm

**Title: Calm Before the Storm. **

**Characters/pairings: MByakuya/FRenji, unknown servant, mentioning of Hisana.**

**Warning: slight suggestiveness, sexuality. New arc spoilers! **

**AN: I know I promised an Uryuu-centric piece, but I couldn't help it! The latest issue released a horde of plot bunnies that, once finished biting the living hell out of my poor defenseless mind, produced this sort of angst-y piece. Nevertheless, I did enjoy writing it :D I hope you guys you enjoy reading just as much!**

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><p>Kuchiki Byakuya generally dislikes hot, late night showers. Being a captain, he's often forced to take them on the rare nights that he returns home soaked in dried blood and dirt, and his immense pride is the only thing preventing him from skipping the ordeal and sleeping in that state.<p>

However, most recently, he's been taking them almost too frequently. Every night he'd go to bed with a flushed skin, for the waters had to be scorching hot to wash away that spent yet ecstatic sensation that made him almost too drowsy to function. But he didn't mind the heat, or the harsh, frantic scrubbing. His body was trained specifically for strength, speed, and endurance. What he couldn't stand was this tiresome new routine.

He glanced at the mirror. His hair was still damp. His cheeks were still flushed. He placed the tips of his fingers on the mirror, and his reflection mimicked.

_Why are you baffled by your reflection, Byakuya? _Senbonzakura asked gently. He presented an image of a younger Byakuya, training hard in one instance and laughing rather loudly and ungracefully in the other.

Why shouldn't it baffle him? He hadn't looked alive since…

He shook his head. He was alone; he had nothing to hide from Senbonzakura. He would never speak of his insecurity to anyone, Byakuya was sure of it.

He looked away from his reflection. He had a few more hours to himself, where he could sleep and pretend that this night was just a dream concocted by the exhausted mind of a captain and a clan leader combined. He wouldn't have to be in his office, the very room he shared with the fiery creature that had recently occupied more than just his bed, for at least a while.

Besides, he knows himself too well. He will eventually come back to the mirror.

He was startled to see his servant standing outside his room, his head bowed so low that his chin touched his chest. His round, boyish cheeks were the reddest the noble has ever seen, and the fresh sheets that he usually changes every time Byakuya takes his late showers were still held tightly in his arms.

"Kuchiki-sama!" he exclaimed, making clumsy gestures before remembering to bow first. "I beg of you, please forgive my tardiness, Kuchiki-sama!" He was fumbling with himself, almost dropping the sheets all over the manor's polished floors. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

He sighed. This is why he didn't like having boys as servants. The simplest gestures made them cry for the hills.

"Explain yourself," he said, as calmly as he could. "Why have you not replaced the coverings of my futon?"

The boy quivered nonetheless. Was he really _that _intimidating?

He looked shamefully down at the bundle of white he now held to his chest. Byakuya didn't think it possible, but his cheeks got even redder. Had the boy any blood left for his brain? "Th-the lady, Kuchiki-sama. She's still in there."

He wanted to scoff. He doesn't remember bringing a lady to his house. The boy was rather ignorantly mistaking his barbarian of a vice-captain with an actual, well-bred lady. He normally wouldn't have allowed him to go without a punishment, but seeing as the fact that she was _still _there…

He frowned. What on earth was keeping her? She always, _always _leaves when he gets up and takes his shower. By the time he returns, the sheets would be replaced and the room's air poisoned with fragranced candles and oils that erased all traces of her passion and of his need. The next morning things would go back to the way they should be; he her captain and she his subordinate. It was like a silent bargain that they have both agreed to abide with.

So why was she breaking it? Had she forgotten something…? Rather, did she have something to _say_?

He entire framed tensed. He wasn't composed enough to speak to her _yet_. Had she planned to take him by surprise from they very beginning, so that he'd be too exposed and weak to brush off her demands and concerns? Then again, he could always sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. But he'd prove himself a coward, and Kuchiki Byakuya, the twenty-eighth Kuchiki head and a sixth division captain, is anything _but _a coward. He'd be damned to take a risk that huge for her of all people.

He walked past the boy and, masking his annoyance with indifference in less than a heartbeat, he slid the doors open. His poor servant's horrified gasp was definitely excused, for his vice captain laid sprawled, still undressed, on his futon. Her wild red hair was tousled, her lids were closed in sleep, and her mouth was hanging open, releasing loud snores that were very similar to the sound of beasts being slaughtered alive in a very slow technique. The thin sheets left nothing for the imagination, for they barley covered her body from waist downwards.

He couldn't help but give an audible, exasperated sigh. It took enough to not smack his palm to his forehead. He believes that he at least deserves that much credit.

He dismissed the boy with a wave, who happily scurried off, before stepping in and sliding the door shut. The click ceased the snoring. She frowned, muttered incoherently, squirmed a little under the sheets, and went still again.

_Let her sleep, Byakuya, _urged Senbonzakura. Byakuya frowned. When exactly did he start caring about her, or anyone besides his wielder? _She had had a long, tiring day with training the new recruits._

_She could have said no, _he argued, adamant on continuing with their routine.

_When did you start forgetting your place, my wielder? _Amusement marked his tone. Byakuya would've squirmed if the spirit had still been manifested before him. _She cannot come whenever she wants. It's inappropriate. You are still her captain, and of noble blood, and she is beneath you. She may only come when summoned. _

He stood next to her sleeping form for an interval, saying nothing more to his zanpakutou spirit. He never considered himself a masochist, especially during the times he felt that he had missed Hisana most, but for reasons besides torment he had started comparing Renji to Hisana. Not too long ago, she had slept on the same bed.

She was frail, and much smaller than Renji, perhaps even smaller than Rukia. If she wanted to kiss him she had to step on her toes, and he had to bend a little if he wanted to return the gesture. Her frame barely took over half of the futon, and she'd be so still and give him such space that he often holds her close just to make sure that she was there, and that she was safe. Renji, on the other hand, was muscular. Her limbs were long and strong, and it seems to him that she is either uncaring or oblivious of the fact, because they were spread in a way that made it impossible for Byakuya to even try to maneuver his way on the edge.

And then there was the hair, and the eyes. Oh, he couldn't possibly forget the eyes! Hisana, with her silky inky locks and soft violet orbs resembled the night, beautiful and calm and soothing. Renji, with her wild fiery tousles and glinting brown eyes was the day, loud and vigorous and enticing.

He feels like smiling. He isn't one to boast, but the assessment is perfectly done. Even Hisana's features screamed for the night, because even though she grew up in the ravaged corners of Rukongai, she was still soft to the touch, and so delicate it was no wonder she was constantly plagued with illness. And Renji was the sun herself, not just the day. Even her scent was that of mud and grass, and on most occasions, blood and sweat. Being a shinigami hardened her features, made her seem rigid and unbreakable, but the exotic way in which her tattoos are distributed across her body and her unkempt hair gave away her bold, passionate nature.

He looked at her hand, laid next to her head with her palms facing the ceiling. He remembers the feel of Hisana's hands when he first held them. They were slightly coarse, and she had been embarrassed to find that his were softer than silk. Of course, when they eventually married, his female relatives took it upon themselves to change that, because according to them, no Kuchiki lady ought to have hands similar to that of a man or a commoner.

He kneeled beside her. The creaking of the floor made her twitch. She really is a heavy sleeper, he mused to himself. He brought his bare hand to her palm and caressed it. As he had expected, the texture was hard and rough. He could only compare it to sandpaper.

A Rukongai resident's hand, an eleventh division shinigami, a _warrior's. _Those thoughts were not Senbonzakura's.

He looked at her face again. Messy strands have fallen over her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against her high cheekbones at his caress, but her eyes didn't open, and her mouth gradually closed and formed a pout. Her lips looked especially tempting when she wasn't using them to rant or yell over everyone's voice, or show that horribly large, obnoxious victory grin of hers.

He brought his hand to her face to brush away the unruly strands, only to be cut off midway by her wrinkling her nose and swatting his hand away, mumbling incoherently and rolling over so that she was sleeping on her stomach.

It was like being swatted back into reality. His expression hardened instantly, and taking advantage of the space she had just provided, he laid down and stubbornly gave her his back, pulling the sheets up to his stomach and secretly hoping that he'd stolen it all from her. He glared openly at the semi-darkness the room was bathed in, and was surprised that Senbonzakura hadn't been commenting on a situation that he'd probably consider funny and worth remembering, much to Byakuya's dismay.

Suddenly, he felt her arms sneaking around his waist, holding him so closely and tightly that he felt the planes of her body merging with his back. He held his breath, shocked that he hadn't even heard her moving, because her skills did not include stealth. He felt unfamiliar heat on his cheeks when she nestled her face in his shoulder and sighed contentedly.

She was too close. He could feel the blood rushing in her veins, the breaths taken in and out, and the few unruly strands that got mixed with his own dark, damp hair. His discomfort was increasing by every ticking second. This was too intimate. It's not exactly unfamiliar, but he hadn't had it in such a long time that he had eventually forgotten.

He considered waking her. Although unintended, she was obviously breaching limits, and he usually wouldn't have it. But, looking back at the feel of her hand, he decided to let her have her way for at least one night. It's not like anyone would _ever _know. If anything, she is more adamant on keeping the secret, and he could understand why. As a captain and a noble, he had nothing to loose. The least that could happen to her is her friends and subordinates that will no longer look at her in the same manner they do now.

Though he will definitely sort it out in the morning, and perhaps even set new limits to…whatever it was that they were engaged in.

He was certain that he would have to try harder if he wanted to get at least an hour of sleep. Discreetly, his hand slid lower and took hold of one of hers, slowly bringing it to his eye-level without causing her to stir. He stared at her digits until his eyes eventually adjusted. They were slightly bony, but long like that of an artist, with slightly chipped nails. Her knuckles had white patches of burns on them, and he was able to discern tiny scars on the back of her hand. He even recognized some as Senbonzakura's…

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><p>He had reached the final stage of his suffering. Death was merely an arm's length away, he knows. He had heard and read many stories, and he is now going through the experience for the first and last time. He assumes that he had fallen at some point, probably when Kurosaki left. He had been submerged into complete and utter darkness, because being a long-time companion of death, he is aware that the dark master will only make an appearance under certain preferable circumstances.<p>

His body was nearly entirely numb to the outside world. His tongue was too heavy for words, and his lips wouldn't move no matter how hard he tried. He could feel very little, but he was still able to hear as clearly as a living mortal man.

She was there. Of course she'd be there; she was his vice-captain. She had loyally fought by his side till the very end, risking her own life in the process, and it occurred to him then that among all the vice captains his division had had in the past, she was one of the best. And in his life he had done nothing but make her believe otherwise.

She was probably in a state worse. She was grieving as if she were his widow, not his subordinate-turned-mistress. He could feel her hot tears on his face and her fists on his chest.

For the first time in decades, he felt like laughing. _Why do you cry for me? I have taken you for granted._

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><p><strong>Before I disappear: Uryuu one shot. I have developed two ideas so far, one with Nemu and the other with an ArrancarEspada that I won't be mentioning yet :D But I think you might already know…anyway, they're not necessarily romantic. I'm merely interested in Uryuu's relationship to both characters, and was wondering what it would've been like if he had been a girl. So my question is, which piece would you like to read first, Nemu or Espada/Arrancar? **


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